Icha Icha: Passion
by timelucked
Summary: Jiraiya has always been known for his good ear and kind shoulder. When Kakashi unknowingly intrusts him with the drunken secrets of his torrid love affair, what will the old pervert do? Not back down from his lecherous ways, of course. What started off as a night of vulnerability becomes Kakashi's living nightmare as the stories are spun back to him in the form...full inside.


_A/N: So this story is set apart from any timeline in Naruto, really. It's just sweet fluff and sour lemon for these two. Set when they're older, Sakura at 21. Again, set apart from any real timeline – NOT an AU, though._

_Summary: Jiraiya has always been known for his good ear and kind shoulder. When Kakashi unknowingly intrusts him with the drunken secrets of his torrid love affair, what will the old pervert do? Not back down from his lecherous ways, of course. What started off as a night of vulnerability becomes Kakashi's living nightmare as the stories are spun back to him in the form of his favorite books. Kakashi is confronted with a non-too pleased Cherry Blossom and has to suffer the consequences. But could his problem also be his solution?_

* * *

"So," the silver haired fox smacked his lips, his cup of caffeine clinking against the countertop. He leveled a stare at his bar mate's eyes, pointing a finger at him lazily. "You let her get away."

The man sighed, lowering his ceramic cup. The chilled rice wine chinked against the smooth wood of the countertop, sloshing gently in its holding. The fringe of his own silvery-grey hair flopped over the rim of the cup.

"Is it ever something so simple?" his words sounded so defeated, it surprised the older shinobi.

The two were silent for a time. The master sipped his coffee, contemplating the world and waiting for the man to elaborate_. In his own time, in his own time._

"Lord Jiraiya, I didn't just let her 'get away.' She walked away. She just – she left of her _own_ accord."

The veteran snorted softly. "Not after dealing out a few punches first, am I right?" The younger man was silent. Jiraiya straightened up and gruffly added, "So what'd you do to make her run off like that, eh, Kakashi? Those twig arms of yours not strong enough to hold her down?" He knew that problem all too well. Made sense this man would face a similar situation given who the girl's master was. Both she-bears packed punches that could crumble stone and tear down a man's confidence until there was nothing but shreds.

The man's gloved fingers drummed against the waxed oak of the bartop. He sighed, his head dipping lower. "Sakura isn't a – woman – who can be held, Lord Jiraiya. She doesn't like being forced down, into decisions or actions she doesn't feel comfortable with. I respected her for that. But clearly, I was one of them."

"_So_ what? This isn't your first affair. Granted, it's a bit more severe now given your shared past together. Now that it's over, and seeing her reaction, you probably butchered what friendship you might have fostered and the relationship you used to have. But I mean, hey, you weren't that great of a teacher to her anyway back then and it's not like you still are her sensei. There's nothing between you two to tie you together still, so what's the big deal? It must have been hard for her to overcome that status, though. You, I'm sure it came natural – like ripping it out of a page of Icha Icha, am I right, Kakashi?" Jiraiya's booming laughter subsided as he noticed it went unreciprocated.

His jokes seemed to rebound off the stoic shinobi, none of them able to pierce through his sheltered shield. The man was steel-proof. He was sure his forced distance was impenetrable. Yet somehow…somehow that girl got around it, had pierced through it. She had been able to get past his leathery hide and into something no one had ever really come close to, had not ever been let to. From their talks, Jiraiya was aware of the few trysts Kakashi had come by but none had ever ended this way. Kakashi had taken them all in his lazy stride and set off a different path, his nose stuck in a book and letting page after page erase his non-problems. He was always so carefree in the conquests of lust. But this girl…this girl had seen behind the mask, behind the many masks, Kakashi raised around himself – corporeal or otherwise – where no one else had. Sure, his other lovers had most likely gotten a glimpse through to see who this man truly was, but it seemed none like Sakura. It dawned on Jiraiya then.

"You were in love with her." His expression softened.

"Unrequitedly, so it would seem." The other man's face hardened, barely perceptible beneath the mask, but evident nonetheless. "She was everything to me. So many nights I lay awake and regret not ever being there for her, as I should have been. I was too preoccupied with the prodigy; I let the real ones slip away from me." His head hung impossibly lower.

Jiraiya shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Uh, Kakashi, don't tell me you've been this way since –"

"No – _no_. I'm not that despicable," he spat, reaching his hand up to quaff back the sake. "I don't know exactly when it happened. It was recent enough though." _Recent enough to make this split feel like it's torn me in two._

The legendary nin sighed. "Well," he clapped a hand to the other shinobi's shoulder. "You'll get over it. This all takes time. That's all you need - time. A good book helps too, you know. I think I know just the one."

Kakashi stared ahead, his gaze strong and unyielding. "Lord Jiraiya," he addressed. "I don't _want_ time. Time won't mend things anyway. I've lost yet another person I've put all my faith and care into. At least this time she hasn't died." He scoffed. "The one saving grace."

The bar was silent save for the gentle hush of low conversations amidst drinks. A couple sat in the corner, leaning close towards each other as the glare from the table's candle haloed them in a soft light. Other members were in parties, discussing civilian business. This was a bar Kakashi had never frequented. He preferred the shinobi pubs to the civilian, but this was Jiraiya's niche, he said it helped his research to go to places where he could study and _not_ be clobbered by chakra-enhanced fists.

"What exactly did you have with this girl, Kakashi?" his voice broke above the swelling rhythm of the bar scene. "I mean," he grappled for a moment. "How was this any different than any of your other flings? She couldn't have meant that much, could she?"

"This wasn't just on some whim, that I chose her. At first, sure, of course, it was nothing. It _meant_ nothing. She came to me and we simply sated each other's lust for the moment. It had been a difficult mission she and I had been on. I'd been gravely injured, saving her, and in turn as the medic on the team she saved me. When we came back to Konoha after the debriefing and filing, she stopped to check if I was alright and things…pro_gressed_ from there.

"Then she stopped by more often under the pretense of regular checkups, but we both knew that wasn't the case. I was fine at that point and she knew I was capable enough on my own. She became bolder and I found my objections waning, not that they were existent to begin with. She really is a beautiful girl, and that's only amplified with age. Then I found myself going out of my way to see her, taking the long road back to my apartment just to pass her as she came and went from her shift at the hospital. It became routine to meet her midway. Soon we went out for lunches or dinners, just as friends would. It didn't feel like anything out of the ordinary. But then sleeping with her became something more, so much more."

Jiraiya was playing the attentive listener and Kakashi found that he couldn't stop his tongue. Perhaps it was the warmth in his belly from too many cups of the cool rice wine that oiled his tongue, but he just didn't have it in him to stop.

"It wasn't just about the sex anymore. It was about the warmth of her company, the spot beside me filled as we genuinely slept through the night. It was about seeing her anger and riding out, or holding her as she tried not to cry over the loss of somebody she wasn't in time to save. Our times together weren't just quick romps or furious lays, they become more, and as it built I could feel that something else was too. I couldn't just let her out of my apartment.

"I wanted her there, all the time. I'd find little excuses to have her come back like a back ache or a small wound that needed healing. I liked having her presence near me. I'm so familiar with being alone, but since the first day she had overslept and stayed; it had felt nice to have her there. I – loved – waking up to find her satisfying her appetite over my stove, cooking in nothing but the shirt I'd thrown to the floor the night before because she couldn't be bothered to find her own. It was the thing I looked forward to most, and if she didn't come to my place, I was sure to come to hers."

Kakashi stopped talking for the moment, his breathing rougher and his drink emptying quicker. Jiraiya called over the barkeep and gruffly ordered another bottle. He poured it generously and Kakashi nursed it like a wound - which meant the drink nearly fell from his slack and indifferent grip. He thanked the legend for his kindness and tossed the drink back feeling it sting all the way down past his throat. His eyes burned but he wasn't sure of the cause anymore. He didn't want to either.

"So what stopped it?" Jiraiya asked. "If things were going so great between you two, what made it end?"

He didn't answer yet, but Jiraiya could see the stirrings of a response work its way up his throat.

"You know, I was only ever trying to be honorable. Maybe not at first, because nothing we did could be considered that, but over time when things developed, that was my intention. Our business, keeping it closed off to others, made it seem so shady and explicit. What we had, what I thought we might have gained, I felt I should show her that it wasn't shameful – I thought that was the main issue. You'd think she would have enjoyed that, not to be sheltered away, hidden from the world like some abomination. She had had enough of that with Sasuke. But clearly, she didn't want that with me. Maybe I was the one she was really embarrassed of and I'd just gotten it wrong thinking the other," he laughed mirthlessly to himself. "If she had met me when I was young, maybe it would have worked then. Only a prick is worthy of Sakura's status." Kakashi instantly bit back the retort, regretting his words with an unsettled sigh. "But I would never be that way with her, she would never deserve that and I would never…I guess that wasn't clear though."

He ran a hand through his hair. "I wish love could be more like what I read in your books, Lord Jiraiya."

The author laughed outright at that. "No, no you don't, Kakashi. I can tell you from experience, what you had with Sakura was more of what I ever wanted than the things I've had and written about."

"The romantic ideal of loving and losing being better than never having that at all is wrong. Sasuke proved that. Out of the two, Naruto came out better, more sane. Well. I was always more like the Uchiha progeny than my sensei's own anyway."

"That isn't true and you know it. Tell me, Kakashi, are those memories not precious to you?"

Kakashi stopped mid-motion, setting his glass back against the counter. The bartender made it a point to steal it from him, cleaning it thoroughly with his cloth and not relinquishing it back into the ninja's custody. Apparently for his own 'safety', Kakashi was being cut off for the night. The man must have been more used to civilian's than shinobi because, even though his outward condition looked severe, he was still in control of his senses enough to be able to walk even after a few more chugs of alcohol. The master ninja's voice brought him back to the present.

"They are, aren't they? It doesn't matter the outcome of this, they are precious to you. Now tell me this; those memories the Uchiha boy had, they kept him fighting didn't they? They were the reason, his sole purpose in life, the last vestige of meaning he was given." Jiraiya sat back and allowed his words to soak through Kakashi's surrounding alcoholic membrane. "Look, Kakashi. It doesn't detract from the pain you feel, or the pain anyone feels, but it is always better to have memories of a time most precious to you, than to never experience something like that at all. Take it from an old man with scrolls of regrets. You'd rather end up seated here in your booth, than in the shell of a man who wasted his whole life never knowing what you have felt."

Lord Jiraiya stood, Kakashi's reddened, lidded eyes following him. "Here," he said, slapping down some paper money on the counter. "For your troubles. I'm going to head out now. You're a big boy - try to make it home safely?"

He left without a glance behind him, relishing in the cool air of the night and the liberty it brought with it. Nighttime and the smell of pine was more home to him than anything. It was the smell of unshackled and unpolluted freedom. Freedom recently though, he thought as he stared up at the five faces of the great hokages, seemed to come at such a high cost to him. He shrugged off his thoughts and trekked his way back to the room he was given upon arrival. Seems she still bore him some good fortune, even after all these years.

* * *

The hotels in Konoha had become a lot nicer as of late. They were finally moving up in commercial rank and gaining the small luxuries other villages had for years before them. Jiraiya felt refreshed after his hard travels on the dirt paths of forests in a day where before it would take him up to three to feel the same in the past. His trips felt lonelier now without the abundant laughter he had shared with his apprentice. His bones felt heavier too as he slumped onto the reclining couch, pulling out a pad and marker. He thought to occupy his time with a few sketches.

His pen moved of its own accord, guided swiftly along with the deft precision of his hand. He smoothed the paper back with the side of his other and continued tracing out the fervent images in his mind. He spread his legs and used his thigh as a table, bending over his work and scribbling out designs meticulously. His tongue tapped his upper lip as he worked, sketching and shading in the proper places. Light would hit the cheekbones at this angle from that side, so he worked to fill in on the other. His fingers moved faster than his mind had time to calculate and he had finished before he could process the fact that he had begun.

Sitting back with a grunt, he gazed down at his work. His eyes widened as he noticed who it was he had drawn. Those lips, those eyes, the hair, that _rack_ – it was so evident where his mind had gone and why it had refused to let him think against the design. It was Tsunade.

He had drawn her in many ways over the years, fantasizing on the thing he cherished the most and was never able to attain. He would adore her body in art, even when his hands couldn't in life. It was probably because of that he remained so fixated on her. That and more, he knew, letting that particular thought rush out of his mind quicker than the others. His books and the female characters in them resembled her; at least the main interest did every time. Now he had drawn her in a fighting stance and one she favored. True, he had sketched similar before, minus her clothing of choice of course. This time, however, he kept things pure – simple. Her face was knit with her furious passion, brows drawn down elegantly, her curved cheeks hinting at the effort of her fighting style. Her twin-tailed hair was wild around her face, trailing around her back and whipping at her sides. Her leg was raised near parallel to her body, ready to smash her foe - who at this angle happened to be himself.

_No worries there, Tsunade, I've been crushed by you a long time before now._

Cursing himself, he tossed the pad with a flippant hand and growled. He needed a good, and better, distraction right about now. He was about to reach in his traveler's pack for the rough skeleton of his new installment to the Icha Icha series when three heavy knocks sounded at his door. Quirking a brow, he padded over to the noise and opened its source.

Standing there, looking like even more of a disheveled mess than he had last seen, was his most avid fan. His cheek, or what was visible, was rosy from alcohol intake. Jiraiya raised his brow at the young man, his lips slightly puckered.

"Listen to me, Lord Jiraiya. It _isn'_t better to have loved and lost, not when you've been with a woman like," he hiccupped and lost his place for a moment, finding it once again. "Like Sakura."

The elder sighed. He motioned inside the room and walked the path back to the couch. "Alright then. Why don't you tell me just how wrong I am. Here," he knocked his head towards the empty space on the couch, shifting so that the pad of paper he had thrown and sat upon was seated in his lap instead.

Kakashi stumbled towards the spot, slumping in the seat and staring off for a moment, his body swaying slightly. Jiraiya coughed, prompting him to hurry up.

"Lord Jiraiya, you've been with all the women you've ever wanted. You've been plied and sated your lusts countless times, more than, than, than _that guy_."

Jiraiya assumed he meant the main character to his books. He nodded as it was true. He had had more sexual encounters than the not-so fabled man.

"I don't know if you know what it feels like to have loved and lost, but it – it isn't a good one. It's like drowning in a jutsu you can't escape from. No…it's…it's like genjutsu. It's all an illusion and when it's over it feels like a lie," he slurred.

Jiraiya had to hand it to the man. He had valid points despite how incoherent he made it all sound.

"You can't just…you can never just rebound from something so strong. It's worse than PTSD. I look around every corner, hoping to see her there and trying in vain not to let myself do it. I don't go the same routes I had, but even so I still walk slower in case I can catch a glimpse of her through the streets, even just a glimpse. I wake up and smell her on my pillow but I know she's not there. It, she, everything – it chases me around. It's a shadow to my life that I just; I just can't get rid of. I don't think I want to yet anyway. The things we did, Jiraiya. I couldn't replicate them with another woman. Sakura was so different, so…so…"

Jiraiya tried stifling his yawn. He didn't want to be rude, but it was getting late and this sniveling was getting to be much. He knew the man was never truly like this, but he had drunk more sake than any should bear and was left unguarded from it. Already, the famed Copy Nin was not known for his containment of liquor and the amount poured into his system was enough to tip him off his usually sharp edge. Still though, it was approaching an hour unsuitable for guests – shinobi or otherwise – and Jiraiya really was showing the symptoms of his age. And then he caught the next word, and it piqued his interest too high to come down from.

"Pliable," Kakashi's thick voice whispered the word in reverence.

"P_lia_ble?" a wicked smile grew on the pervert's face, his eyes gleaming dangerously. "In, in what way, Kakashi?"

Kakashi sighed in wistful ignorance, thinking only of his lost nights and adventures. "She was so enthusiastic. She had always been a fast learner, not that I ever took it to heart back then. Now she was eager and willing to do…just about anything. There really isn't a place in my apartment we had neglected. The shower is where she liked best, talking about how dirty she was and needed to be properly cleaned. The counter was another favorite, no euphemism there though. She just liked having the rough granite against her."

Kakashi was oblivious to the lecher as he gently pulled a pen towards him and a number of papers as well. "Go on, _friend_," the master goaded, jotted down and scribbling words with no meaning on the crumpled pages. "I'm _all_ ears."

It was some time later, as dawn cracked its bleary red eyes outside the window, and the Copy Ninja had fallen asleep in mid-sentence, that Jiraiya put down his notebook with a smile and tired eyes. He rubbed at them with the back of his hands and stared down at his completed work. His teeth showed as his grin spread wider, looking between the words on the page and a few sketches to accompany them.

"Perfection," the old man purred gleefully, standing up to stretch and pat the unconscious shinobi on the back with a bolt of _enthusiasm_. "_Per-_fection."

* * *

_A/N: Uh oh…what is Jiraiya planning and what has our lovely former sensei dug himself into now. He really should know better. Well. Alcohol does do strange things to ones inebriated mind. Loosens tongues and tells tales it shouldn't. _

_The next installment to this will herald more answers to the mess going on up here. Another key player is thrown into the mix. Jiraiya works fast. Too fast. _

_Hope you all enjoyed. Tune in next time! Reviews more than welcome :)_


End file.
